There is a private message on my Facebook page. I am curious as to who is sending me a message at this time of the night. It is her. She is not on my friends list, but managed to find me through mutual friends. My profile picture is my high school yearbook picture. That is when I felt at the highest.
I messaged immediately. She was the love of my life. We had four intense years together and after high school it became clear that we were meant for different purposes. I had grand schemes of opening my own business, she wanted a family, a house and a dog. Dead weight.
She wants to know if we can meet for breakfast. She will be passing through the town, our town, now my town. I say yes. She was a stunner back then. I had no way of verifying since her profile picture was some shot of a mountain and sun. I can't sleep. It has been two decades. Does this mean something?
In the morning, I get up and quickly wear my blue jeans and grey t-shirt. The t-shirt is one of many with Captain America's shield on it. I comb whatever is left of my hair and holler to my mom through the door on the way out.
There is a shiny Tesla parked near old trucks. I pull up my bicycle next to it. I walk in and run out of breath. I see her brunette hair shining in the bleak morning light. I go behind her and say hi. She turns and I run out of breath again. She is still a stunner. She smiles but there is something in her eyes. I think, disappointment maybe. I sit down.
She asks me what I do. What happened to my plans? I still have grand schemes. I just like planning and dreaming better than actual implementation. She is married, no kids. A high paying salary. We hit a lot of awkward pauses. A lot. How are my parents, she asks. I live with my parents still, I say. Awkward pause. I scratch my belly absentmindedly. How long is she staying? She had originally planned on staying the day, but now she is just passing through. We sigh and look out of the diner. My mind is full of memories, the love, the intensity, the cooling. I'm kind of sure she is looking at me but is really seeing me as that teenager. That is when I felt the best.
She hasn't touched her breakfast, but asks for a refill of her mug. I excuse myself to go to the restroom. I look at myself in the mirror and see myself- balding, paunchy, ageing. I was best when I was a teenager.
I come back, the Tesla is gone. The steam in her coffee mug is still rising.
I messaged immediately. She was the love of my life. We had four intense years together and after high school it became clear that we were meant for different purposes. I had grand schemes of opening my own business, she wanted a family, a house and a dog. Dead weight.
She wants to know if we can meet for breakfast. She will be passing through the town, our town, now my town. I say yes. She was a stunner back then. I had no way of verifying since her profile picture was some shot of a mountain and sun. I can't sleep. It has been two decades. Does this mean something?
In the morning, I get up and quickly wear my blue jeans and grey t-shirt. The t-shirt is one of many with Captain America's shield on it. I comb whatever is left of my hair and holler to my mom through the door on the way out.
There is a shiny Tesla parked near old trucks. I pull up my bicycle next to it. I walk in and run out of breath. I see her brunette hair shining in the bleak morning light. I go behind her and say hi. She turns and I run out of breath again. She is still a stunner. She smiles but there is something in her eyes. I think, disappointment maybe. I sit down.
She asks me what I do. What happened to my plans? I still have grand schemes. I just like planning and dreaming better than actual implementation. She is married, no kids. A high paying salary. We hit a lot of awkward pauses. A lot. How are my parents, she asks. I live with my parents still, I say. Awkward pause. I scratch my belly absentmindedly. How long is she staying? She had originally planned on staying the day, but now she is just passing through. We sigh and look out of the diner. My mind is full of memories, the love, the intensity, the cooling. I'm kind of sure she is looking at me but is really seeing me as that teenager. That is when I felt the best.
She hasn't touched her breakfast, but asks for a refill of her mug. I excuse myself to go to the restroom. I look at myself in the mirror and see myself- balding, paunchy, ageing. I was best when I was a teenager.
I come back, the Tesla is gone. The steam in her coffee mug is still rising.
No matter how close you were once if you allow a gulf between the 2 of you it is no longer going to be the same. When you meet this person again there is going to be long pauses, painful silence and will make you hate the reconnect moment.
ReplyDeleteHaving said that there are some people who with their infectious unrestrained warmth can just make it so easy for you and break the ice. How I wish everyone is like this?
Thank you..I agree..but certain situations that I have come across, the gap becomes too big and you are two different people especially if you haven't managed to stay in touch over the years!! I have experienced these both ways you have mentioned as well..:)
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